by Alex Janaway
‘What the bloody–?’ but he knew. He reached out to Arno. ‘It’s OK. It’s OK.’
Somebody had weighed in. Someone had used sorcery.
CHAPTER 52 – KILLEN
Killen pulled at the forks of his beard. It had become his little worry routine, something that happened whenever he had something on his mind. It was subconscious much of the time. But today he was very conscious of it. As far as he was concerned he had every right to be worried.
He looked up into the night sky. It was clear, thankfully. In the distance to the south, the horizon glowed. The enemy camp. It was still miles away, but it gave him an indication of just how damn big it was.
‘There it is.’ Sadad pointed up. A dark shape was skimming low over the ground, keeping just about hill height. It shot past them, the wings dipping left and right. Killen was sure the Rider was waving as well. He raised his hand just in case. Probably a futile gesture considering they were barely out of the treeline.
‘Alright, let’s get mounted up.’
‘As you say, Major.’ Sadad touched his breastplate and forehead in a salute then went to galvanise the waiting scouts.
Killen waited a few more moments then turned to follow. He stopped and looked up one of the taller trees that populated their little wood.
‘You still up there?’
‘Yes, Major,’ Abbas called down.
‘Good. Well, give us the warning when you see our people ride by.’
‘Major.’
Killen nodded and moved deeper into the woods. The sound of camels and riders were louder as the beasts were goaded into action and roused from their happy repose. It took him a couple of seconds to spot Bajin. The only camel not to have moved. Of course not, lazy son of a bitch. He hitched his leg over its back and settled into the saddle. Then he took a switch and lightly tapped Bajin’s backside. ‘No shit from you tonight,’ he muttered. He lurched forwards as the camel moved his hind legs and then fell backwards as the front legs joined in the fun. Killen swayed easily with the motion, too experienced to panic at the lumbering start. At least Bajin wasn’t being stubborn; he took that as a win.
His command stood ready. All of his scouts and a handful of Highlanders who had made the crazy decision to join the Erebeshi scouts. Such was the world, nationality didn’t matter any more, just the patience of a saint. Thirty-three souls. That’s what he had left. And only twenty-seven of them native Erebeshi. He hoped the coming hours would be the end of it, of all the conflict. He hoped there would be some of them left once it had. He hoped that if they won this, then there would be a chance for them to go home. They’d damned well earned it.
‘All of you. Remember, let our lot go by, don’t give away our position. When the enemy comes, we take them in the flank and rear. We sting them then we withdraw. Don’t be heroes. This is just the start and I need you all standing for what comes next. Now, ready your bows, draw your swords and make sure those bastards bleed.’
Those closest nodded their heads.
He kicked his camel forwards and it threaded its way to a shadowed position under Abbas’s tree. Next to him Sadad drew level and on the far side Jenni. She carried a spear and wore a breastplate a little too large for her. And, as the other new recruits had done, she’d taken to tying a band of cloth around her helmet. Just like a true Erebeshi scout. He approved.
Jenni wiggled in her saddle and accidentally pulled on the reins. The camel made a discontented noise.
‘When it comes to it, try not to fight her,’ he advised. ‘That one knows combat, let her react as she needs to.’
Jenni nodded, her mouth scrunched in concentration.
Killen settled back and placed a hand on his sword hilt and sighed softly, the familiar cold tingling in his stomach was now well underway. It would be gone soon enough.
Many minutes passed before they heard the sound of hoofbeats. He strained looking for the source. A clump of riders emerged over a crest, highlighted against the starlight and distant glow. He heard whoops and shouts as the riders urged their mounts on. They needed the speed and they needed to let the enemy know exactly where they were.
They passed by the clump of trees and Killen got a better look. Fifteen or so Plainsfolk, riding hard. He admired their horsemanship, and more so he admired their bowmanship. He’d watched them practice their art a couple of days earlier. Their ability to fire on the move. He wouldn’t admit it to any one gathered nearby but they were at least the equal of his scouts in that regard. Most of all he admired their bravery. They were an almost extinct people, yet here they were risking it all for an Empire that had forgotten them. He smiled. Ah, like us then.
And then they were gone.
Perhaps a minute later, the deep drumming sound started again. And this time, cresting and curving around the same hilltop, came the enemy. At first, he could not count them, but as they moved closer, what looked like a clump resolved itself into a loose line of cavalry. Their horses were not as heavy – looking more like the horses of the Plainsfolk – they were sleeker, and it seemed, unarmoured. Light cavalry then. Which meant bows. And a good thing the Plainsfolk were thrashing their mounts to stay ahead. If the pursuit carried on much farther, the elves would easily ride them down. Killen pulled his sword free as the tail end of the riders pulled level.
‘At them!’ he shouted, and urged Bajin forwards.
He broke cover along with a dozen others abreast and more behind.
Arrows started to fly almost immediately into the backs of the pursuing elves. It didn’t matter overmuch if they hit anything, only that they caused confusion. Killen held his sword out and level, pointing at the elf cavalry that was now starting to take notice. A horse bucked, pricked by an arrow. A rider fell to the ground. And several more were turning to face them. But the message hadn’t got to the leaders yet.
Killen closed the remaining distance, part of a pack of howling scouts.
An arrow plucked at his sleeve. He looked down briefly, the shock not quite registering because the next thing he knew an elf wielding a bow was right in front of him. He slashed right, connecting with something hard. He carried on as the sound of multiple crunching impacts heralded the meeting of the two forces. Another rider charged him, and Killen raised his blade high, swinging it down on the elf’s bare head before it could bring its own shorter sword to bear. Then there was open space in front of him. Somehow, he’d ended up to one side of the melee. He turned Bajin around. Camel and horse were intertwined. There were grunts, squealing, metal striking metal. A lot of horses had no riders. He kicked on again, seeing a horseman present his back. Killen leaned forward, driving his weapon into the elf. The enemy reared and tried to turn as Killen twisted and pulled the blade free. He thrust again, working the blade into the flesh. The elf jerked as a scout speared him in the front. Killen disengaged. There was no one near him to fight. The elves were already beaten.
‘Let a few get away!’ he shouted. But there was no need. He saw a couple of horses hightailing it back over the slope to the south. He lowered his weapon, let go of the reins and wiped his face. Another crazy, chaotic fight where he’d had no clue what was going on until it was done.
Somehow in the melee he had drifted close to a small knot of trees. He opened his mouth to urge Bajin back toward it. There was a brief shout from behind him and something heavy smashed into Killen’s back, pitching him forwards, his sword flying away. Hands gripped his shoulders and yanked him back. Killen cried out, partly from shock, partly to draw attention. Making a panicked sound Bajin reared up and Killen was falling. He landed in a heap on the ground, dry soil flying into his eyes. Winded and blinking he rolled over. Of Bajin there was no sign but close by someone else was getting to their feet not six yards away. An elf. And in its hand it held a dagger. Had the bastard been up a tree?
Starting to panic, Killen looked for his sword.
The elf started forward, blade raised high.
Killen shuffled back, trying to gain distance. The
elf advanced. Killen tried to get to his feet. It leapt into the air. Killen thrust his arms out and the elf landed atop him. Somehow he got a hand on the wrist holding the dagger. He tried to push it away. The elf smacked him on the side of the head, and Killen lost focus. His free hand found the elf’s neck. He tried to squeeze. The elf’s hand was on his, prying the fingers off. Killen tried to squirm free, but the elf planted its knees on his chest. Killen bucked and thrashed but he couldn’t shake the elf off. And then his grip on the elf ’s throat was gone, his arm batted away and pinned to the ground. How was this fucker so strong? There were barely inches between their faces now as the elf leaned in, teeth bared and gritted tight. Killen was losing the battle against the dagger; his arm was bending, shaking with the effort. The dagger came closer.
He shouted for help. It was more a shriek. He looked into his killer’s hooded, oval eyes. This was it. No. Not like this. He pushed back but it did no good. The dagger came closer. The tip was coming for his eye. He jerked his head away just as the point met flesh. A lance of fire along the skin. He cried out and pushed again, fighting for just one more moment of life.
A dark shadow filled his vision. It loomed over him and a long neck darted down. A mouth yawned wide and closed over the elf’s head, damn near swallowing it whole. And then the elf was bodily lifted up off Killen and thrown to one side. The shape lumbered after the rolling elf. Killen got up on to his elbows.
‘Bajin?’ Was that his bloody camel?
Bajin was kicking and stamping the elf, making odd whining and hooting noises as it did so. Killen climbed to his feet. Where was his weapon? Wait. He still had his damned knife. Why had he not thought of that? He pulled it free. A loud ‘snap’ stopped him short. Bajin had stopped his assault. His target was prostrate, unmoving. Most definitely dead. Killen sheathed his knife and walked towards the camel.
Bajin swung his head and watched him approach. The look Bajin gave him was a remarkable mix of marked indifference, aloof distain and distinct annoyance all rolled into one.
Killen reached out and patted his flank and then gazed down at the broken form of his would-be murderer. He reached up and touched the wound on the side of his head, feeling the warm sticky blood come away on his fingers.
He looked at Bajin, who now picked at the leaves of a low-lying branch.
‘You just saved me.’ This fucking camel. His nemesis. His greatest enemy had just damn well gone and saved him. The world had truly gone mad. ‘Thank you, you glorious bastard, you.’
Ah. And there was his sword.
Rashad jogged over. He spotted the elf still underneath Bajin and frowned. ‘Major? You alright?’
‘Never better. Bajin just saved my ass. Damned near ripped this fella’s head off and then kicked him to death.’
Rashad grunted.
‘It’s not often you see that. Bajin must have really taken offence.’
‘You don’t say.’ Killen shook his head. He’d never stopped to think that at any point the camel could have unleashed that on him too. And there had been plenty of times Killen had given him cause to. ‘Maybe he likes me after all.’
Rashad patted him on the shoulder. ‘I wouldn’t go that far.’
Killen rolled his eyes. Time to get his head back in the game. ‘Report?’
‘A complete surprise.’
That he was still alive? It always was. ‘Very good. Casualties?’
‘Wait, please.’
Of course. He could hardly count who was left in the midst of the carnage. He cleaned and sheathed his sword, and tried to relax. A few scouts had dismounted and were dealing with the wounded elves, giving them a quick death.
‘Let’s take the horses. Spoils of war and all that,’ he suggested. ‘Everyone grab one to lead back if you can.’
Abbas jogged by and saluted.
Killen heard a snort. He turned to find the Plainsfolk riding slowly towards him in a loose clump, Tomor was at their head. He drew up his mount in front of Killen and pointed at Bajin’s victim.
‘We watched your fight with the elf.’
‘Not my fight,’ he replied. If they had seen that it might’ve been nice if they could have tried to come and help him.
‘How much for your beast?’
‘Huh?’
‘Your camel. ’
‘Huh?’ Killen shook his head. He had no trouble understanding the question. He was just having difficulty making any kind of sense of it. He tried again. ‘Why would you want my camel?’
‘It has spirit. A fighter. We could use that.’
‘Oh.’ Killen looked at Bajin. ‘How much?’
‘We can give you a horse. We have spare. Fine creatures, bred for stamina.’
‘If not yours then perhaps others?’ said Sarnai nodding her head towards the rest of Killen’s command.
Killen continued to stare at Bajin. The camel stared back at him with an innocent expression. It was chewing something.
‘Sorry. This one just saved my life. I can hardly let him go now, can I? As for the others, I do have some spare. If we get through this, maybe we can talk again.’
Tomor nodded his head. ‘Agreed.’
He turned his horse and led his people away.
As he watched them go, Killen was struck by a notion. He looked at Bajin once more. Oh you bastard. ‘How did you know?’ The camel saved him deliberately to avoid being sold. That was devious. For his part Bajin continued to chew. ‘See? You won’t even deny it!’ Killen pulled his beard and sighed. ‘We’ll have words later.’
Killen scanned the glow in the southern horizon. He knew the camp was not coming any closer, but he couldn’t get the vision of a wave of elven cavalry sweeping towards them. He had an urgent need to be away.
‘Let’s get moving!’ he announced. ‘Mount up. We leave now.’ One of the Watchers had been to this place earlier; they’d see when the next wave of pursuit would come.
Rashad returned. ‘Major. Two dead. One of ours, Mirabal, and one of the new recruits. Two more wounded who can ride their way back to the infirmary.’
Shit. Mirabal. Nice lass.
‘Better than we could have expected, I suppose.’
‘I count thirty dead.’
It didn’t seem that important now. ‘Let’s be away. Sadad?’
‘Major?’ the scout waved.
‘Lead us on after the Plainsfolk.’
Sadad waved again and kicked off, everyone else falling in behind him.
Killen waited until all were past and then guided Bajin into line. He kept glancing back. He swore he could hear a drumming sound.
CHAPTER 53 – CADE
Cade rolled over on to her side and got a face full of leaves for her trouble. She batted them away. She opened one eye.
‘Bugger.’
She closed it again. Her body shivered. Where was her blanket? Her hands quested, patting parts of her body, encountering clothing, but no wool.
‘Bloody hell.’
She sat up.
In the gloom of the woods, Cade took a moment to work out what she was looking at. There were humps and bumps gathered all around her. Someone was snoring. Far too bloody loudly. She sniffed, the smell of burning wood vied with the scent of musty soil. A few yards away a miserable camp fire snapped and crackled weakly. Someone poked at it with a thin stick with no sense of commitment.
‘Evan, is that you?’
The lad looked over. ‘Yes.’
‘What’s wrong with the fire?’
His head leaned to one side, his mouth open. He looked at the fire and back at her. ‘Um? Nothing?’
‘Wrong answer. It’s not bloody big enough. I’m freezing my tits off over here.’
‘Oh, sorry I’ll build it up.’
‘Good.’
Cade looked to the bottom of her feet. Something was clumped up. There you bloody are. She reached out and pulled the blanket back up over her legs. She glanced about the woods and then shifted so she could see out to the world beyond. It lo
oked grey and miserable. What time was it? The skies must have clouded over during the night. It had better not rain. Not yet anyway. At least yesterday’s rain had done much to soften the ground beneath them. Even so, there was nothing worse than digging in mud. Apart from lots of other stuff she hated even more. She smoothed the blanket out and pulled it up to her shoulders.
‘Evan?’
‘Yes, Cade?’
‘What else is wrong with the fire?’
‘Um.’
‘There’s no bloody kettle over it. Make us a brew.’
‘Yes, Cade.’
‘And add honey.’
‘Yes, Cade.’
She grunted her thanks and laid back, the gathered detritus taking the lead in the odour stakes again. She closed her eyes. There was no point in getting up yet. Until the enemy arrived it was all waiting. Might as well do it lying down.
CHAPTER 54 – OWEN
Owen circled high over the position. In the drab morning light it was hard to tell just exactly what had been done to prepare it. All to the good. They’d found the place late on the day of the recce, when Devlin had called him down from his aerial inspections. The old soldier had found a long, gently sloping, south-facing hillside, crowned with trees that flowed along the crest and down, like a dropping moustache, forming two distinct wooded areas on either flank that continued on and away to the bottom. A perfect funnel. Just a half mile to the west was the Brevis Sea. And directly to the south and west was a small inlet fed by a tributary. That inlet was mostly marshy ground. Almost impossible to traverse on horseback which made it a good refused flank. There was a bridge over that tributary and further along an easy fording place. From the bridge and ford, a track wound vaguely east around the hill and into easier country, before heading north. A harder flank to hold; some scattered woods and copses but plenty of open land in between. A few smoke columns showed the positions of waiting troops hidden in the woods to either side of the open slope. They’d need to put them out soon. They helped the enemy head in the right direction but there was no need to advertise their exact positions. But would it matter? His thoughts drifted back to his close shave with a fireball. Would the elves just sniff them out with their sorcery? Would they even have a chance?
